Page 86 of A Drop of Anguish
Thompson scoots forward to the edge of his seat. “My turn.” He rubs his hands together. “Elliot. Truth or dare?”
Elliot flinches but then puffs out his chest. “All right, I’ll bite.” He points at Thompson. “But you better not be a dick about it. Dare.”
“Now we’re getting started,” someone says. All attention narrows in on Elliot and Thompson.
Thompson rubs his hands together. “Let’s test my theory on dares that reveal truths.”
“Oh boy.”
“Elliot, I dare you to pin Candice’s hands above her head for ninety seconds.”
“Screw you,” Elliot spits.
My eyes widen.
“She’d have to consent, of course. Totally innocent. You’d only be touching her wrists, nothing more.”
“What the hell, Thompson?” I ask.
Thompson meets my gaze, his expression soft. “Trust me.”
I groan. “Fine. Come on, big guy. If I’m in, you are.” I finish off the rest of my potion and then cross behind the chairs to the stone wall a few feet behind us.
Elliot grimaces but rises to his feet. “First sign of Jarron, I’m out.”
“I thought you said you didn’t think Jarron would kill for her?”
“Over an insult. This is… different.” He swallows.
I won’t admit it, but I kind of like that he’s scared. But then again, I’m a bit nervous too. I lean my back against the stone and lift my hands up over my head. Elliot stands as far as he physically can from me while still reaching my wrists with his one hand. It’s almost comical.
Thompson starts counting.
My heart pounds, adrenaline rushing. I don’t know what truth Thompson is trying to prove, but I’m guessing he’s anticipating a reaction from Jarron. He wouldn’t purposefully get Elliot hurt, right?
“Twenty-nine. Thirty.”
A form stands in the now open doorway to the patio. “The hell is this?” Jarron’s low voice rumbles.
There’s a slight pause, where even Thompson’s counting stops.
“Thirty-three. Thirty-four,” he continues, but his voice is quieter. Even he is nervous.
Elliot throws his hands up, releasing me. “It was a dare, dude,” he stutters. Then, he literally leaps over the railing into the darkness below.
I gasp. “Oh my God. Did he really just jump?”
“What dare?” Jarron asks, his voice eerily low.
“He had to pin my hands for ninety seconds. Not a big deal.” I peer over the railing, but I can’t see anything except pitch-black darkness. How high up are we?
“Who made the dare?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m fine,” I say, turning back to him. “Though, is Elliot okay?”
“He’s a shifter. He’s fine,” Thompson says.
“Who?” Jarron demands again.
